Page 144 of Seeing Grayscale

“Woman, leave us now or so help me I’ll—”

“You sold OAT!” I explode, cutting him off and slicing my hand through the air. “You sold it to Xavier Malone? The drug lord?”

I see the color gathering in my dad’s cheeks, the vein popping in his forehead, and the flare of his nostrils. “And Davidson, too? What the fuck does Xavier have on him?”

“Watch your mouth.”

“I’m going to be thirty in three days. I can fucking curse if I want to,” I growl, pent up anger quickly spilling over the surface.

My fists curl at my sides, and he spots it. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never challenged my fatherever. The facade of his control is slipping from his fingers, so he does the one thing to get me to back down. Stepping into my space, he holds my eyes, making my guts twist with the look only he can give.

Disapproval.

“I can guarantee you do not want to go there with me, Hunter.” His voice is a low growl, lethal and steady.

I square up to him, our faces so close we could butt foreheads. “I can guarantee that I do.”

“Someone explain what is going on,” my mom begs.

“Dad sold OAT to a drug lord. It’s pretty straightforward.” I don’t break his stare as I speak. “He sold it because he’s too afraid ofeveryoneknowing what a corrupt, callous,bigotedfuck he is.”

The silence in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife. And then it breaks. My dad shoves me back as hard as he can, and I trip on the foyer rug, almost falling backward. He shoves me again and again until my back is up against the door.

That's when he slaps me.

“You cross aline,” he spits. “Did you know thatyourson is a homosexual?” he tells my mother. “A raging faggot!”

I want to flinch. I want to cover my face. But I don’t. I steel myself against his hatred and feel my heart splinter. “I would’ve overlooked it,” he says, taking a breath. “I would have found you a wife to parade around while you continue to sin and ruin yourself.” Cracking his knuckles and looking me from head to foot, he continues, “And you would have done it, too. A wife. Children. A permanent seat at the table with powerful,straight, god-fearing men.”

“Edward, stop!” my mom demands.

“You both are the same. Mistakes. Worthless.”

I’m shaking, feeling my resolve crumble. Every fear I’ve ever had is coming to fruition rightnow.“I’m not worthless and I’m not a mistake,” I manage to say through a wobbly chin.

“You can’t even accept the facts like a man. Has it been screwed out of you? Did thatfelonsuck it out of you?”

Suddenly, there’s a loud, sharpcrack.My dad’s face whips to the side, and I stare in shock. My momslappedhim. Fuckingslapped him. “You have become the most foul man I have ever known, Edward.Foul. Howdareyou say this to him? To your son?”

“He’s no son of mine, and if you don’t step away from me now, Candice, you are no wife of mine either.”

She doesn’t move. Her courage tethers around my wavering strength and grabs it. I push away from the door. “All my life, I’ve tried to be everything you’ve wanted.Everything.”

“And you still failed,” he quips, stretching his sore jaw.

“Good!” I scream, hands raised above my head. “Good! Because it never amounted to shit anyway! So what if I’m gay? So fuckingwhat? It’s a single part of me, Dad. One single facet of who I am!”

“It’s wrong!” he bellows. “It’s fucking disgusting and I raised you better than this. When she left to whore her way across the country Iraised you. I taught you right from wrong.”

“No, you didn’t,” I say with mild hysteria. “You taught me to lie. You taught me to save face, scheme, and manipulate to get whatyouwant. Anything I ever wanted that didn’t fit your mold was shot down! Everything! Anything! If it wasn’t what Edward fucking Kade wanted, it was as good as trash!”

“Because everything you wantistrash, son,” he says dryly. “It always has been. I’ve tried to reshape the sad excuse of a boy into something redeemable, something worth showing to the world, and you’ve disappointed me at every turn. And this? Thisonefacet of you? Next thing I know, you’ll be in those ridiculous parades with fake cocks around your neck singing ABBA. I won’t have it. I refuse. Do you have any idea whatmockeryis? What that feels like? I’ll be ridiculed. It’s not going to happen. I will not let it.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” I growl. “Not anymore.” My heart is racing so fast, and the urge to move, to hurt, is becoming impossible to ignore.

“I already got you to discard one piece of trash, Hunter. How easy do you think it’ll be to get rid of the rest? All I had to do was say what you wanted to hear.”

That does it. I can’t just stand here and take this. Nothing I say is going to matter. Nothing I do is going to amount to anything. I knew this would happen, and though it hurts, it doesn’t surprise me. If anything at all comes from this, it’ll be saying what I’ve always needed to say.

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